


Vorta, Made to Order

by Vortaesthetic



Series: Ascension [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Medical Procedures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:41:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vortaesthetic/pseuds/Vortaesthetic
Summary: Odo is in need of a new Vorta. Time to make one.





	Vorta, Made to Order

**Vorta, Made to Order**

 

Stepping foot on Callinon VII sent pangs through his heart.

 

It wasn't the scenery-- though the rugged mountains and pine forests reminded him enough of Bajor's mountain belt that he ached for home. It was the sum of everything. The people that had died, the totality of the loss...the hardening of hearts, the changing of people... _leaving his life behind_. He'd had the ache in his soul ever since he crossed the wormhole and it had only grown worse in the five hours since. Had he been anyone else, he would have been worried, but Odo knew this pain well. This was nostalgia, and there was nothing that could soothe that except time.

 

The war had ended a mere week ago, and he'd promised the Founder that he would return to his people to bring them a cure. The Founders had been on the verge of dying en masse, the threat of extinction staring them in the face and they had not known what to do. The second Odo had stepped foot into that great golden sea, they understood what he came for—to save them-- and their gratitude was beyond words.

 

Leaving Nerys behind on that lone spire was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

 

He shouldn't have been surprised by that, to be honest. All of his conscious life had seemed like an endless series of missed opportunities. It was a painful realization that he would have to leave Nerys, but at this point, it was expected. The paths that their respective lives were taking were branching out in such divergent ways...there was no way he could take her away from everything she knew, everything she loved, just because he didn't want to let her go. He had to return and instead of stringing her along, he'd rather take the hurt and set her free than to let her resent him for what he had to do. He didn't know when he'd be back. Or who he'd be when he came back. At least this way, she could resume her life the way it was meant to be.

 

It was for the best, really. And that was what hurt more than anything.

 

His armed escort took him to the front gates of the Dominion military installation on Callinon VII, leading him throught the slate grey blast doors of the bunker. It was an odd sensation. Not two weeks ago they were enemies, for Odo to be simply allowed to walk through the gates—escorted with reverence, even—felt wrong. His armed guard accompanied him through the hallways and droplifts to their destination, their march perfect, their strides in lockstep with his.

 

Here they were.

 

The Callinon VII Vorta Cloning Facility.

 

The interior was stark white, the glint of glass and stainless steel visible at every turn. The various Vorta he passed were shuffling around in white jackets and covered shoes. Their dark hair was capped with identical gauzy white hats and many wore masks over their mouths. The Jem'Hadar guard remained outside in the hallway—apparently, there were strict sterility protocols that had to be observed in this area and they were not allowed to enter. Instead, Odo had apparently been transferred over to a Vorta scientist for his business here today, a thin, waifish female with thick, slightly curly dark hair by the name of Loriss.

 

She had taken him over to an office, situating him in a chair with a padd as she finished relaying an order to her subordinates. In short order, she was back. Odo was thankful for the wait.

 

“Founder, welcome to the cloning facility. We are humbled by your visit. How may I serve you today?”

 

“I'm here because I'm looking for a Vorta. A specific one. I would like to see...if I could clone him,” Odo said, folding his arms. There was something about this building that made him very uncomfortable. Perhaps it was all of the scientific equipment he could see in his field of view.

 

“Do you have the model number?”

 

“Model?”

 

“Vorta lines are classified as models. This allows for Vorta to be bred and allocated for aptitude, Founder. There are subsets to every model to allow them to be rapidly outfitted with the necessary characteristics, but we could always build a new subset to suit whatever your need is, should that model not be available,” Loriss explained, flipping through her pages of stock on her padd.

 

“...his name was _Weyoun_. I don't know his model number.”

 

“Oh, I can certainly help you out with that, Founder. Weyouns are classified as WVs—or “Waves,” as we call them here. They're a legacy model, cleared for high-level applications. All facilities have at least a few in stock. They have an excellent service rating. I have four tubes stocked with Waves, but only two of them would be ready to go today. Would you like to take a look at them, Founder?”

 

Odo nodded his head mutely. There was something that twisted in him over how clinical this conversation was. Here, Weyoun was not a person, he was a product—one that was customizable and disposable. Here, he was a manufactured piece of equipment, little different from this padd in his hands.

 

“Please follow me, Founder. I will show you back to the cloning banks,” Loriss said, donning a white cap and a face mask. She directed Odo through several sets of double doors, through winding halls. Odo was lucky she was an attentive guide, because he found his attention drawn by everything that they passed. This was a sophisticated operation, perfected into a finely-tuned art form.

 

“Central storage, Level 4, Section E,” Loriss called out upon entering the turbolift, waiting to initialize the program until Odo was ready to travel. She gave him an odd look as the banks whizzed by, rows of large tubes stacked as far as the eye could see in every direction, stretching out to the vanishing point.

 

“Founder...forgive my asking, but have you ever had a Vorta commissioned before? I can walk you through the process, if you would like, from start to finish.”

 

“...Yes, please. I would appreciate that.”

 

“This is the Central Storage chamber, where we keep mature Vorta ready to be decanted. Vorta clones are started in other rooms as cloned embryos and the stock rotates as they reach different stages of development, at which point failed embryos, lethal mutations and deformities are terminated and removed from the cohort. They take roughly two years to reach physical maturity in the tank. All the Vorta you see here are the result of two years worth of careful weeding and selection. These are the successful clones,” Loriss explains with a smile.

 

Odo gets a closer look at the tubes as he walked with Loriss down the catwalk. The tubes were thick, clear plastiflex tubes large enough to fit a grown man of average height. They were filled with colorless fluid, bare-skinned Vorta floating buoyantly in the medium. A thick catheter hooked into their bodies just under their collarbones, attaching the Vorta inside to a device that he couldn't see. Most hovered in their pods stone-still, but Odo nearly fell out of form when he noticed one Vorta blinking dumbly at him.

 

“Don't worry, Founder. It's not awake. The clones go though cycles of neurologic arousal, to test whether their brains are functioning intact. They can blink, but they aren't able to think or register anything except pain. They won't have access to higher brain functions until they are activated. It's a safety protocol...”

 

Loriss came to a stop suddenly, turning to gesture to a set of pods separated from the others by a locked cage. With a flip of her hand, she'd unocked the sliding door protecting the pods behind it.

 

“Ah, here we are. The Weyouns,” Loriss says breezily, as if she were showing him two options on a dinner menu as opposed to two empty Vorta husks. The two tubes sat side by side, the Vorta floating inside looking almost identical. “We have two here; a standard WV and a WV configured for field supervision. What kind of application did you have in mind for this Vorta?”

 

“I... want him to be my personal aide,” Odo said, though he was still a little unsure how that would actually go. The most time he'd ever spent with a Weyoun was when he was with Six, and as quiet and gentle as he was, the Vorta traits he couldn't help made it a very trying time for Odo.

 

“Alright, then the Standard build would be best. The Field Supervisor build sacrifices social skills in favor of military and tactical traits. Useful for handling Jem'Hadar, but not the most optimized for negotiation and general service, I'm afraid. Did you want to take this one? If you're unhappy with this one Founder, I will have two additional WVs matured in two weeks. One's a scientist subtype, the other is another standard loadout.”

 

“No. This one is fine.”

 

“Excellent. Let me order this clone to be brought to processing,” Loriss said, using a handheld scanner to scan a barcode on the tank's plaque. “Borath will come pick up the tube in a moment and take him to the testing labs. We can head on over there so we can get a head start on the preparation of the memory engrams and personality profiling.”

 

“Preparation?”

 

“This is the point where we can fine-tune the Vorta's personality. With a standard field operative, this step is usually not necessary-- but I understand you have special considerations in mind for this clone, so testing and controlled activation would be the safest option. We can take care of everything in Processing Bay Three so you can see the whole process, from start to finish.”

 

The tube was rolled into a receiving bay, propped upright before being locked in its' mechanical base. One of the Vorta attandants broke the seal as the opened the glass panel, a flood of clear fluids rushing out into the drainage grate in the floor. The attendants hauled Weyoun's limp body out of the tube, soaking wet, his hair smeared aross his face with the viscous fluid. A suction tube was shoved into his nostrils and down his throat to clear it of fluids as they clamped and removed the subclavian catheters. An oxygen mask was slapped on the clone's face as the attendants wrestled Weyoun's limp form onto a stretcher.

 

Odo shuddered at the memory of the last time he'd held a limp Vorta. This was uncannily similar to the experience of watching Bashir perform Six's postmortem exam, except that this clone was neither dead nor alive yet.

 

The attendants took a handheld nozzle and washed the bare Vorta down, rinsing the pseudoamniotic fluid off of the body of the insensate clone. Odo watched as they carefully manipulated Weyoun's arms, his legs, feeling around his jaw, his ribs, turning him about to scrutinize and analyze the clone as they cleansed him. They flipped him back around when they were done, drying him with hand-held heat lamps and attaching various diodes to his body.

 

“The first thing we do in the controlled decanting process is to transition the Vorta over from their reliance on the machine's extracorporeal circuit to using their own heart and lungs. This clone's vital signs look excellent. We perform scans of their bodies to identify any aberrancies that may have developed during the maturation processes, such as tumors or organ dysfunction,” Loriss explained. Odo felt a little ill looking at the detailed scans of Weyoun's insides. He didn't have a desire to know Weyoun's insides that intimately, thank you.

 

“Now that this Weyoun has passed his physical exams, it's time to do the awakening and the memory upload--”

 

“Actually, about that,” Odo interrupted, handing a pair of small devices to his Vorta escort. “These are the memory transcorders for Weyouns Six and Eight. I want them included in the upload for this Weyoun,” he explained. “All the memories from both.”

 

Loriss accepted them with a nod of the head and inserted the transcorder devices into a port and pulled up files for the two devices. Six's device immediately set off some sort of warning message that Loriss caught right away.

 

“Founder, I have uploaded transcorder data for Weyoun Eight, as you requested. But Weyoun Six is identified in the system as a defect....are you sure that you want this clone's memories transferred to the new clone? It may cause Weyoun Nine's conditioning to be unstable.”

 

“I want that one uploaded. Especially that one. There wasn't a thing wrong with him,” Odo said, irritated at Loriss' hesitation.

 

“I understand, Founder, my apologies for questioning you,” she said quickly backtracking and overriding the warnings. “I'm commencing the upload as we speak. While we are waiting for that to complete, would you like to see whether the personality specifications suit your tastes, Founder?”

 

“Personality speci—you're telling me that you can edit his personality?”

 

“Absolutely, when it comes to major traits such as aggression, passivity, physicality, that sort of thing. It doesn't replace the personality entirely—much of that is developed through his past life experiences. But you can place emphasis on certain traits if there is a problem. For example, wv_06 showed pacifist tendencies; his successor wv_07 was given a higher emphasis on aggression to combat that flaw. Did you notice a change in the behavior between the two, Founder?”

 

Oh, yes. Yes, he had.

 

“I don't want him edited in any way, then. I want him to be what he's going to be with as little interference as possible.”

 

“I understand. Memory file uplink complete. Personality modification complete. We're ready to begin awakening. Founder, would you like to remain in the room? The first few minutes of awakening for Vorta clones can be chaotic if they are disoriented.”

 

“I'm staying.”

 

“I understand, Founder. Let me call in extra support, just in case things get out of hand,” Loriss says, tapping her combadge.

 

Borath applied a hissing facemask over the clone's mouth and nose and everyone stared at Weyoun, waiting. Wondering if he would come out peacefully or in a rage. Loriss remembered when Seven woke up and it was still something she had nightmares about.

 

His violet eyes fluttered open and these new eyes saw light for the first time.

 

Weyoun Nine looked around, dazedly, as if waking up from a restless sleep. Everything seemed to be too bright and out of focus as he squinted at everything and everyone. He was uncoordinated, unsure as to whether he wanted to get up or lay down. Unsure if he wanted to pull his monitors off or pull the bedsheet up and go back to sleep.

 

“Founder, perhaps you should go say hello,” Loriss whispered, gesturing to the gurney. “Vorta tend to imprint on the first people they see.”

 

Nodding stiffly, Odo crossed over to stand at Weyoun's side, who was currently busy being mesmerized by the ceiling tiles. He appeared to be observing them intently—counting them, perhaps-- when he took notice of the soft touch of Odo's hand and loosely swiveled his eyes in the Changeling's direction.

 

He stared at Odo for a few seconds, his face looking odd-- perhaps he was confused, or frustrated? He opened his mouth to say something but broke off into a hacking cough, spitting clots of clear fluid from his lungs.

 

“O...O-do?”

 

“Yes, it's me. Welcome back.”

 

Weyoun smiled weakly, his hand reaching out for his, his strength not up to the task yet.

 

Loriss was tittering excitedly somewhere in the back of the room. “Congratulations, Founder. You've got yourself a new Vorta!”

 

“Truly a joy,” Odo said gruffly as Nine pawed at him.

 

“I'll make arrangements for his uniform and you can leave with him in twenty minutes, Founder. It's been a pleasure to serve you,” Loriss said with a nod as she skittered off. Odo wasn't really listening too closely.

 

He was too amused by Weyoun's drunken squinting and wandering, uncoordinated speech to pay much attention to those details anyway.

 

* * *

 

True to their word, twenty minutes later, they were returning to their ship, with a fresh Weyoun in tow. His legs were very wobbly and he'd fallen several times, prompting one of his Jem'Hadar to carry the Vorta back to the ship. He didn't fight much—ironically, it seemed like the very act of awakening was exhausting. By the time they had returned to the ship, he had fallen back into a doze.

 

“Is he supposed to be like that? I thought he would be more awake,” Odo asked the First.

 

“It is common. He will awaken later,” was the First's terse reply.

 

Odo nodded as they prepared for transport back up to the ship, the entire party departing from the surface in a shimmer of light.

 

Odo had set Weyoun in the stateroom, where he could rest on the couch while he flipped through reports and data on his padd. He had located some interesting resources that others had apparently compiled regarding Vorta cloning and he was equal parts amused and disturbed that there was apparently a Vorta Troubleshooting Guide. So far, the literature suggested that this sleepiness was normal, as the First had said. Still, it never hurt to be sure.

 

Within half of an hour, Weyoun returned to the land of the living, sitting up with a little difficulty, but his mind was much clearer if his speech was any indication. He stood on legs that were still a little shaky, his arms spread in the traditional pose of Vorta subservience. “Founder Odo, how may I serve you?”

 

Odo gestured to the seat next to him. “Come, have a seat. We need to talk.”

 


End file.
